


Low Five

by HitherDither



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Implied Tav/Ris, Masturbation, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-20
Updated: 2013-10-20
Packaged: 2017-12-29 21:54:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1010557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HitherDither/pseuds/HitherDither
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After sustaining an injury from a jousting accident, Tavros is stuck on a couch with little to no privacy for weeks. It can make even the most mild mannered troll little short... especially when the person looking after him is someone he's hosting some red feelings for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Low Five

**Author's Note:**

> A short silly thing for a friend :)

Your arm itched, but the pencil you’d been using to scratch it was currently located about six feet away on the table you had been sorting Fiduspawn cards on earlier. It must have slipped your mind that you had left such an important tool there before you let Vriska shove it away so she could vacuum the carpet. Instead of making a fool out of yourself and attempting to retrieve it, you settled for clawing uselessly against the cast.

The thing was covered in scratch marks from your previous attempts to alleviate that infernal itching. You still had quite a while to go before it would be removed, and being whittled down to only one functional limb did not suit you at all. Two weeks had passed since the incident that had landed you in this predicament- an ill advised practice joust that flipped your chair and crushed your right arm- and you were slowly going mad from boredom.

That, and you were getting touchy from the sudden lack of privacy. Fourteen nights of being stuck on the same couch in the living room with someone always nearby to check on you. It was nice for a couple of days, but then it started to get a little irritating. Even more so when Aradia had to leave and brought in her replacement… who was actually -not- teasing you for the first time in the six nights since she got there.

The sentiment of the whole thing would usually have you feeling grateful, but it was lost on your pent up frustration. The same commercials kept coming on tv- a flash of skin here, closeups of luscious lips- leading up to the name drop of a new romantic movie on some obscure channel. If you had more than a few minutes of alone time, you’d venture to check it out. Unfortunately, you could already hear footsteps approaching, and your mood soured just a little bit more.

Vriska entered with a glass of water to replace the empty one by the edge of the couch. You gave her a slight nod of your head to acknowledge her presence before returning your attention to the television screen. There was a quiet click that made your eye twitch- she was clicking her tongue at you, her mildest way of showing annoyance, and you know it wouldn’t stop until you paid attention to her. “What?” the words were heavy and bland, you didn’t even turn to look her in the eye.

"What do you mean, "What"? Are you just going to sit there like a wart on a frogs ass or are you going to thank me for all this housework I’ve been so," she turned her head so that her hair swept across her shoulders, "-gracious- to do for you?" You let a moment of silence pass to make sure she was done talking before shrugging your shoulders. "Yeah, thanks. I guess." If that fired her up then so be it, you had no sympathy for anyone at the moment.

She didn’t respond, which was a first. After a second or two she harrumphed and walked out of the room. That would buy you a couple of minutes of alone time while she seethed, and you thought about the trolls in the commercials. You could only distract yourself so long with your plushes and card games- there were some urges that just couldn’t be put off. Hopefully Vriska would find something to occupy a little time while you sank down in the couch cushions.

Something as presumably easy as laying on your back got difficult when you moved your left arm off the cushions- suddenly you were leaning towards the edge of the couch. The other arm was useless in its cast and sling in helping you rebalance, and finally you sacrificed one of your pillows by stuffing it like a wedge under your side to keep from rolling into the damn floor. That’d be just the thing for someone to walk in on- like this wasn’t already shameful enough.

Keeping your ears pricked for any sound of her return, you grabbed the remote and turned back the timeline until you found that commerial again. Pressing play and balancing the controller on your chest, you ventured to palm against the front of your pants. The feeling wasn’t all there as it used to be, but it was definitely enough. Catching your bottom lip with your fangs, you sighed dreamily with your eyes fixed on that smooth expanse of grey skin that was playing across the screen.

It quickly switched from that to the shot of those thick, plump lips. It only lasted a few seconds, but you burned that image into your head as you shoved your fingers under the hem of your cargo pants. If only it was the time of night for that show to play- you’d dare take a peek at it while you could, maybe even get a chance to see those lips purse open. The thought had you shivering, and you could feel the swell of your bulge under your fingertips.

The more you imagined it the more detailed the picture got- and then your mind decided to switch the shimmering emerald green lipstick of the ad to a deep, vibrant cerulean. You couldn’t hide your feelings from yourself- those were the lips you’d really like to see in such detail. Though you’d be hard pressed to admit it while in such a vulnerable state, when miss Serket herself tended to treat you like a grub. Those harsh thoughts slipped from your mind quickly as you let the tip of your bulge slip between your fingers.

You were thankful for your foresight with the pillow- when you shifted your arm you felt your weight fall to the side, but it wasn’t enough to dislodge you. On some later date you’d pull the cushions out and flip them to keep this from happening, but this was not the time. Instead you let your eyes close as you thought more about those blue lips and the way they’d feel pressed up against yours. Then the way her fingers, with the nails painted a matching hue, would feel caressing your head and trailing down your stomach.

Your dick curled tightly against your fingers the more you imagined what her touch would feel like. It’d been way too long since you had done this- every nerve that could respond was doing its job rapid fire. Your mind wasn’t sitting still either- you got a vivid picture of those famed lips again, only pressed up against your thigh. Heat crept up your neck and into your face, and you had to keep your jaw fixed against the urge to vocalize.

The fight was only going to get worse. You started to gently pump your fist- managing to take a deep breath and dispel the moan of pleasure that was building in your chest. Now you weren’t thinking about her lips anymore- you were thinking about her skin. Naked, she probably bore scars from her extreme roleplaying endeavors. Marks of courage, bravery, and fearlessness. It made you shiver all over again, yet you were burning hot.

Slick pre-cum was already coating your hand, and you worked yourself faster. Her stomach would look soft, but under that powdery grey would be hard muscle from endless training and fighting. You would very much like to kiss right there, and feel those muscles unwind under your lips. You’d follow the dip of her hips and kiss her thighs, too. They would be thick and strong, and /god/ you would be plenty happy to be able to feel and kiss between them.

You took another fast breath to quiet the yearning moan rising in your throat. You wonder how eager she would be to open her legs and allow you to touch her. To coax her own bulge out and toy with it while she squirmed against you- you gasped out loud and barely quieted your desperate whine. Your fingers would be slick enough to slide into the softness of her nook and tease her more, to get her to rock against your hand- and then, carefully, you’d curl them and make her scream just for /you/.

The burning pressure in your groin turned white hot, and you were coming helplessly into your trembling hand. Your teeth were threatening to tear your lower lip apart while you tried to hold in a rising keen that was trying with all its might to burst from your chest- but then you couldn’t hold back, and bared your teeth in a silent scream of her name. Waves of mindlessly pleasurable heat made your head loll back against your remaining pillow as you thoroughly stroked yourself through your orgasm.

You were on top of the world for a few glorious seconds, and then you were spent. Slowly, your mind became aware of things other than your thoughts of Vriska. Your mouth hurt where your fangs had cut into it, and the sweat that had gathered on your skin made was suddenly making you feel slightly chilly. And your pants- oh /no/. Your guts were in a knot- /you hadn’t thought this through/. You pulled your hand back to your side, unsure of what to do about the thick, orangy cum coating it.

The pants were even worse. Dark damp patches were already spreading across the fabric. There was no way you could hide this- what could you /do/? Your stomach dropped, this was bad. This was embarrassing, this was degrading and disgusting. You heard footsteps approaching, /this was worse!/ All the shame you had ever felt before in your life became a mote no bigger than a speck of sand, and this moment was a ship washed ashore on top of it.

Vriska strolled into the room without looking at you. She headed towards the reclining chair she had been partial to lounging in lately, and without a word, sat down and began leafing through a booklet. Seconds passed like days. You were uncomfortable- both with this situation, and with your mess. You wondered how long you would have to lay there before she noticed you- you doubted that you could even manage to talk at this point.

But the silence continued for a good minute longer. She yawned and reached for your pencil on the table next to her, and started marking something in her magazine. When words finally shattered the thick silence, they sounded like they were blasted over a loud speaker when she surely wasn’t projecting more than she would in a quiet conversation. “I came in here and picked your cards up, but I guess you never noticed.” A wicked grin creeped across her face, and a heavy heat settled on yours. “At least next time I’ll know why you’re acting so grumpy.”

You couldn’t move, you couldn’t even hope to form a word with the sheer amount of mortification that was settling on you at her amusement. “But,” she licked the end of your pencil and continued to make notes on a page, her voice laced with razory tease, “Unfortunately for you, it seems you’ve caught me on my break time, so I’m afraid I can’t bother to clean you up just yet.” Finally, she looked up and caught your distraught gaze. “Is there anything else you’d like?”

You looked away, at anything that wasn’t her, face still burning bronze. A few moments of heavy, awkward silence ticked by before you managed to answer her. Your voice was tiny and meek when it at last managed to come out- “Can… you scratch my arm, please?”


End file.
